breaking free
by I Write Sins Not Tragidies
Summary: "Hello!" A voice that's definitely not coming from the brunette replies, and suddenly there's this red-haired girl behind her, and what the hell? He feels his throat get dry because holy crap she's really pretty.


Stiles is in the middle of setting up his cable box to his television when he hears a knock from the front door over the sound of Corbin Bleu singing about how much he hates dancing, which makes him falter and trip over on of the cords. He recovers quickly, as he's accustomed to, and stumbles towards the door. When he opens it, he sees a brunette girl grinning widely at him, holding a cake with the words "_WELCOME!" _ carefully written with red across the white frosting.

"Um, hi?" Stiles' eyebrows quirk, kind of confused, but, hey, cake, he's not really complaining.

"Hello!" A voice that's definitely not coming from the brunette replies, and suddenly there's this red-haired girl behind her, and _what the hell? _He feels his throat get dry because holy _crap _she's really pretty. "We're your new neighbors, we saw you just moved in and wanted to meet you!"

The brunette raises her arms, nodding toward the pastry in her hands. "And, you know. Bring you cake."

"Is that cake?" He feels a tug on his jeans and he looks down to see his son standing at his feet, eyeing the dessert. He snickers and bends down to pick him up.

"Yeah, buddy. Luke, this is..." He shuts his mouth briefly. "I'm sorry, I don't think I got your names? I'm Stiles."

"Oh, I'm Lydia." The pretty red-head raises her hand in 'hello'. "Nice to meet you, Stiles."

"Allison," The brunette nods her head, tilting over to make eye contact with Luke. "Hi, sweetie! Aren't you the cutest?"

"I like your red hair," He mumbles, pointing at Lydia.

"Strawberry blonde, actually, but thank you, honey!" She coos, beaming at him. "How old are you?"

Luke holds up three fingers, but Stiles shakes his head. "No, dude, your birthday was _last week, _remember? You're _four _now." He takes his pudgy hands and lifts one of his other fingers. "Four."

"You're so old!" Lydia pushes a little past Allison and leans down to be at his son's level and he catches just a _little bit _of her cleavage and wow, Stiles, _stop _that _right _now your _son _is in your arms.

That's when he remembers that Allison has been holding a cake for, like, ten minutes, and he straightens. "Oh my god, I'm sorry, do you want to come in or something?" He sets Luke down, patting his back lightly. "Go listen to your High School Musical, buddy." He nods excitedly, darting off, and Stiles takes the cake from Allison's arms. "Here, I'll take this."

"Oh, I can't, I have to get ready for work." Allison frowns apologetically.

"Uh, I'm free?" Lydia offers.

He has to contain himself from bouncing a little, which he hates, because he's not a fifteen year old girl, spending time alone with an attractive member of the opposite sex should not get him this excited. But it does, and he manages to just quirk (what he hopes is) a cute grin and steps aside, letting Lydia in past him and waving Allison goodbye as she leaves. When she's out of sight he steps back into his apartment and, with the cake balancing on his one arm, shuts the door behind him.

He turns to see Lydia standing in the middle of the living room, her fingers clutched in Luke's hand as he shows her his favorite toy, his Tonka truck.

"I like your doll." She smiles, clearly amused, and points at the Rapunzel Barbie sitting in the front seat of the toy.

"It's not a doll!" He insists, as offended-looking as a four-year-old can. "It's an _action figure!" _He tugs Rapunzel out of the window and places it in Lydia's hands to make a point.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my mistake!" She apologizes with a tinge of sarcasm edging her voice as she stares down at the doll, smiling.

"I hate to stop you from showing Lydia all your awesome stuff, bud, but how about we eat some of this probably delicious cake?" Stiles raises his eyebrows questioningly and Luke's tiny face lights up, dropping Lydia's hand.

"Cake!" He shrieks, running towards the kitchen.

"Sorry about that," Stiles apologizes to Lydia when his son is decidedly out of ear shot. "He loves showing people his stuff."

"It's fine," Lydia shakes her head. "I love seeing people's stuff-" She lifts the Rapunzel doll, waving her side to side before putting her back on the floor. "Especially their _action figures." _He cocks his head in the direction of the kitchen and they start towards it. "By the way," She grins, showing off dimples that almost makes him drop the cake. "I _love _the High School Musical."

He blushes slightly but smiles sheepishly, looking down at his shoes and nodding. "Yeah, it's Luke's favorite movie." He meets her eyes, twinkling and crinkled at the edges. "If we're not listening to the High School Musical soundtrack, we're listening to the High School Musical _2_ soundtrack."

She laughs. "It's fine, my niece loved that movie when it first came out. I think I know all of the song the sing at the end by heart."

"'Breaking Free'?" Stiles asks, chuckling. "C'mon, don't tell me you don't know the name." He leans in close, and he can catch a whiff of some kind of flowery perfume on her. "_We're soaring..."_

Before he can get any further in the song, she rests a hand on his chest, letting him know to stop. "Don't quit your day job, hon."

He just beams back at her because her hand is still on his chest, but then she removes it and, even though he knows she knows that it was there for a little bit too long, she doesn't do that thing in romantic comedies where she acts all nervous and stutters. They do break eye contact, though, looking down at the carpet before he makes some noise in the back of his throat and they head back to the kitchen.

"So," Lydia scrapes the excess frosting off her paper plate ("Sorry, we haven't gotten out the regular ones yet," Stiles had apologized when he pulled them out, but she waved her hand dismissively), licking it off her fork slowly and _Jesus. _"Is Stiles really your first name?"

It's and hour and two pieces of cake each later, with Luke passed out in bed after insisting that he can stay up his bedtime to eat a second slice without falling asleep in his cake and, effectively, falling asleep in his cake.

He can't help but make an expression of surprise, not expecting that to be what she asked. She notices, apparently, because she raises her eyebrows. "What?"

He shrugs, diverting his eyes to his empty plate. "I just wasn't expecting you to ask that."

"What were you expecting, then?"

He makes a face. "I dunno, just, like, what happened to his mother?"

Her eyes widen in horror. "Oh, no, no, that's not it! If you're not comfortable with telling me, I unde-"

"It's fine," He shakes his head, stile not meeting her gaze. "Like, I don't care." He looks up. "If you want to know."

"Um, then...?" She trails off awkwardly.

He shrugs again, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nothing really bad, or anything, it's just that she didn't want to keep Luke when she got pregnant and I did, so we just agreed that she would carry out the pregnancy and I would get him and we would just... Carry on, I guess." His voice gets softer as his story goes on, now on the verge of mumbling. "I thought that I could handle it, being a single father."

"You can't?" She replies, seeming concerned.

He shakes his head. "Not at first. It was... Hard. We lived with my parents, I got, like, three jobs." He runs a hand through his hair, a tick of his from as long as he can remember. "I refused to give up Luke, though. It was unimaginable."

She gives him a small smile, resting her hand on his fist that sits in between them on the table. "I'm sorry, Stiles."

He shakes his head. "Nah, I mean, it's a lot better now. My aunt that I never met passed away a few months ago and left me some inheritance, so I spent that on this place and I have some saved up and I can live with only two jobs, now." He laughs a little. "We're fine. It's worth it."

She gives him another smile, patting his fist before sliding it away, onto her lap. "I'm happy you're happy." She gnaws on her bottom lip, looking at her plate. "And I thought being a college student was hard."

He chuckles, shaking his head again. "Nah, don't think like that, don't think less of your issues because of mine." He lifts his hands and puts them back on the table in a dramatic manner. "So! What was your question? No, my name is not actually Stiles. It's short for Stilinski, which is my last name."

Her face brightens at the subject change. "Oh, what is it then?"

He looks around them as if to check no one else is within earshot, then crooks his finger towards him. "C'mere," He whispers, and she leans in close, her ear up to his mouth. He can't help but notice she smells even better up close. "_It's a surprise." _He tells her, amused, and she pulls away, a look of betrayal on her face, a smile quirking at her lips as he laughs.

"Stiles!" She whacks his arm, giggling. "What is it?"

He shrugs, still snickering. "I dunno, it's a surprise!"

She makes a pouting expression but dissolves into a chortle and then they're both howling with laughter, tears in their eyes and stitches in their stomachs until Luke calls, "Daddy!" from his bedroom and they both stop briefly, only to start over again when they meet each other's glance.

"Where are you going?" Allison stops Lydia in her tracks from the couch, and Lydia swears under her breath, hoping to avoid her.

But she manages to pull a smile across her features and look back at her roommate. "Stiles'. Luke has a recital at his dance class this weekend and he wants to show his performance to an audience beforehand."

Allison raises her eyebrows, taking a sip from her coffee. "Oh, really? Why don't I come, I can help?"

Lydia opens her mouth to make an excuse as to why she really shouldn't but Allison, once again, stops her short. "I'm just kidding," She cocks her head, looking at her from behind her mug. "I promised Erica I'd go shopping with her, anyways." She makes a bemused smirk that makes Lydia nervous. "You seem to be spending a lot of time with Stiles, huh?"

Lydia shakes her head, waving a hand at her. "No, we're just friends, Allison, _friends." _

The brunette purses her lips. "So you don't mind if I set up Erica with Stiles, then?"

Her stomach curls in on itself at the mere idea of Stiles going on a date with someone, _especially _doe-eyed, big-breasted Erica, but she shakes her head, still smiling, although somewhat sourly. "No, of course not."

"And you don't mind asking him if he's cool with it?"

"Nope, not at all."

"Great," She grins, getting up from her seat and grabbing her purse from the coffee table, putting her mug down in its place. "Tell him I'll text him the details. See you later."

With that, she's gone, and Lydia finds herself alone, standing in the middle of their living room, suddenly reluctant to go to Stiles', not wanting to tell him about Allison's set-up.

But, finally, she gets over her little _tiny, tiny_ crush and makes herself head over, whether she likes it or not.

The classical music playing over the stereo is fading and Luke is getting into his final pose, his tongue stuck out in determination. When it's apparent that the performance is over, both Stiles and Lydia break out into wild applause, cheering and whooping, despite the fact that he messed up four times, meaning they had to _start over _four times.

"That was great, dude!" Stiles takes his son in his arms, ruffling his floppy hair and kissing his forehead, Luke squealing, "Da-_ad!_" while smiling.

"That was the best performance I've ever seen, Luke." Lydia tells him, rubbing her hand on his arm. "And I seen _actual ballerinas _before."

Stiles' heart swells at the look Luke gives her, with so much awe and appreciation. _This _is what he wishes he had with his son's mother. Someone to give him what Stiles himself couldn't, a maternal figure.

He drags himself away from the thought, instead turning back to the boy in his arms. "Alright, how about you go get changed out of your recital outfit and we'll go out to a celebratory dinner at Friendly's."

"Friendly's?" Luke's eyes light up. "All three of us?"

Stiles glances towards the girl on his side to make sure she's okay with it, and she nods, shrugging. "As long as I get to pay."

Luke cheers and darts to his bedroom to get changed, leaving Stiles and Lydia alone.

"You're not going to pay for it, you know." He tells her, and she rolls her eyes, shoving him lightly.

"Whatever, Stilinski."

Later that night, with stomachs full of burgers and ice cream, the two of them stand outside his apartment, Luke fast asleep in bed.

"Thank you for paying," Stiles thanks her for the third time, and she scoffs.

"I told you I was going to."

"But really, thank you."

"No problem, Stiles, don't worry about it."

There's a brief, awkward silence after that. They stand, her hands crossed in front of her and his stuffed in her pockets. She glances down at her shoes, brushing her hair out of her face, and he feels a jolt in the pit of his stomach.

In the past month that he's known Lydia, he's kind of fallen in love with her. Not only her beauty, but her laugh, her smile, the way she treats Luke. He can't remember the last time he's fallen for someone this hard, and it kind of freaks him out.

He's been trying to gain the courage to ask her out since he's known her, always wimping out before he can even approach her to do so.

_Just do it, Stilinski. _He insists in his head. _Man up._

He opens his mouth, only getting out "Ly-", her trying to speak, too.

"I'm sorry, you go first." She mumbles, looking down again.

"No, you." He shakes his head, hating himself a little.

"Well..." She looks up just above his head. "Allison has this friend, Erica. And, um, would you maybe want to go on a date with her some time?"

He feels his stomach drop, because _of course _she doesn't feel the same way, why would she? He's just the Stilinski dork, with a four-year-old kid. He's stupid to think that she would reciprocate his feelings in any way.

There's a moment of hesitation before he nods his head. "Uh, yeah, sure, sure, sounds fun."

She gives him a weak smile. "Good, alright, Allison will text you the details."

They give each other a smile before she raises her hand in farewell and walks toward her apartment, not looking behind her.

He doesn't go back into his until he hears her deadlock click, and when he does, the only thing keeping him from screaming is his son sleeping twenty yards away.

"So, tell me about yourself."

As of fifteen minutes into the date, Stiles is not in love with Erica as he hopes. It's not that she's not attractive- she is, believe him. But as she leans in close to show off her cleavage just a little and she gives a coy smirk, lips painted red, he can't help how _not _Lydia she is.

"Uh, I don't know." He shrugs, swishing his red wine in his glass. "There's not much to tell, besides my son."

She nods, taking a sip of her own drink. "Oh, yeah, Allison has told me a bunch about him! Luke?"

He gives her a thumbs up. "That's it, yeah. My life kind of revolves around him."

She starts to respond, but shuts her mouth, shaking her head. "No, no this is wrong." She takes her napkin off her lap, setting it on the table. "I'm sorry, Stiles, you're really nice, it's just..." She gets up, giving him a sympathetic look. "I'm in love with someone else."

And then she's dropping money beside her plate for the check and she's gone, leaving Stiles sitting alone, wide-eyed.

"Oh my god," He murmurs, staring where his date once was. "I'm that guy in a romantic comedy."

Shrugging, he gets up from his seat, leaving a twenty behind him, assuming that'll pay for the wine and the salads they got, and leaves.

Stiles unlocks the door to his apartment, seeing Lydia sitting on the couch in front of the television.

"Hey," He half-whispers, dropping his keys in the key bowl. "Thanks for babysitting."

She gets up, smiling meekly. "No problem."

They stand there for a minute in silence, before she opens her mouth again to speak. "Look, Stiles," She starts. "I know your date probably went really well and you plan on seeing Erica again soon, but I..." She squeezes her eyes shut. "I really like you, okay? Like, a lot. And not in like, a friend way, in, like, an I-want-to-grab-your-face-and-kiss-you way. And I'm sorry if this is out of place, but I really don't think Erica is for you."

Hey just stares at her for a moment, because, yeah, this is exactly what he's dreamed of for the past month (among other things), he can't actually believe this is actually happening. But then she's demanding he say something, so he just goes with his instincts, grabs her by the face, and kisses her.

She responds immediately, putting her hands on either side of his neck, sliding them up into his hair.

The kiss is passionate and kind of rough, him pushing her up against the nearest wall and her tugging him down to get him closer, and it's sort of the best thing he's ever experienced in a very long time.

"You—have—no—idea—how—long—I've—wanted—to—do this," He mumbles in between kisses, and she nods without breaking contact to show that _yeah, same._

She's about to suggest they take it to the bedroom when they hear a noise coming from the direction of Luke's bedroom, and then a cry of, "Daddy!" Stiles and Lydia both sigh, separating their lips and resting their foreheads against each other's.

"I should go see him," Stiles whispers.

"I should go home," She responds in the same tone. Reluctantly, they pull away, going their separate ways, when she grabs his wrist, stopping him.

"So what happened with Erica?" She questions, cocking her head.

He grins a little too widely. "She's in love with someone else."

She bounces a little and his heart does a little jig as she pulls him in again and gives him another slow kiss, but pulls away all too soon and then she's gone, locking the door behind her.

He stands there in awe for a beat until he hears Luke call for him again, and he forces himself to go.

"Daddy, I think there's a monster under my bed." Luke mumbles when Stiles enters his room, and the latter sighs, the "monster under the bed" thing being new since a boy in his pre-school class told him about them.

"It's fine, buddy." Stiles gets on his knees and peers under the bed. "I don't see anything, you're good."

"Okay, good." Luke puts out his arms and Stiles sits with him, pulling him onto his lap. "I like Lydia, Daddy."

"Me too, buddy." He smiles.

"I think you should date her."

His grin grows even wider, and he kisses the top of his son's head, setting him back down onto the bed. "Goodnight, Luke."

"Goodnight, Daddy."


End file.
